Matthew Lace
by 5eedless
Summary: Matthew Lace, a boy barely past the age of adulthood, is given a boost into a life he always wanted. However, he finds that such a life holds far more than just danger and excitement ... it holds horrors one should never have to bare. Welcome to the story of how a group was born of a man.
1. The Founding of Matthew Lace

**The Founding of Matthew Lace**

As the sky roared in a fashion that made children throughout the city of Los Angeles cower in their beds, the adult world attempted to bustle as if it were any other day only to find the force of weather to be too great. Cars lay in wreck every other block with ambulances struggling to keep tempo with the amount of emergency calls echoing from payphones and crying babes alike. This was a night of death, by death, for death.

Which made it all the more difficult for the young boy sitting in a diner with a cup of cold coffee, staring out at the rain to cope with his current situation. He wore a pair of black Edidas swishy pants and a poofy blue snow jacket to protect himself from the rain. His hair was black and messy, and his skin was lightly tanned, the trademark of a traditional LA surfer dude. His eyes were brown, yet unlike those of any male his age … cold, hard. They were the eyes of a man who hasn't just seen death, but felt it throughout every pore of his body.

The seats nearest this man were purposefully empty, and he seemed to prefer it that way. Just as no one in the diner had any desire to be near him, he too had no desire to be anywhere near people. There were those who wondered why he was here alone, and some even approached to ask. This proved to be a fruitless gesture, as any attempt to strike a conversation with the boy was repaid with a deadpan stare and frigid silence. And so Matthew Lace, unknown to the world, was allowed to remain as solitary as an oyster surrounded by a school of dumb fish.

His solitude did not last nearly as long as he would have liked, however. There was one man who was not dissuaded by the gaze of death. One man who walked into the diner, closed his umbrella, waved off the approaching waitress with a smile and a shake of his head and marched right over to Matthew's table without a shred of hesitation in his gait. Matthew was too busy staring out the window to notice, but probably still wouldn't have believed even if he had been paying attention.

After all, Tony Stark isn't a face one sees every day.

"Mind if I sit here?" asked the Iron Man, parking his rear-end across from Matthew without waiting for permission. The boy recoiled as his eyes jerked to find the intruder of what must have been an incredibly large personal bubble. "Oh sorry kid, did I scare ya? I have that effect sometimes." Tony Stark waved his hand nonchalantly as he looked around the diner. "I don't often visit dives like these. I'm more the five-star restaurant kinda guy myself, but now that I'm here it does have it's own little charms, doesn't it?"

"What do you want?" Matthew opened his mouth for what felt like the first time in days, though in reality it had been much less than that since he ran from home.

Stark shrugged. "Just wanted to have a chat. How's the coffee? People keep telling me it's better at these places-"

"Cut the shit!" Matthew slammed his fist against the table, his face growing white as a sheet. Stark slowly sat back in his chair. Matthew seethed a few more moments before lowering his fist. "... sorry." Matthew's gaze fell to his lap, where his hands lay shaking. He clenched them both into fists once more to make it stop, but to no avail.

"You look like you've seen Hell, kid. Normally I'd fool around with ya more, but I'll cut you a break." Stark pulled a few pictures out of his pocket and tossed them onto the table. Matthew recognized those pictures. He knew them all too well …

The first was that of a Caucasian male and a Filipino woman, walking with their overshirts on through an overcast Chinatown. The second was that of a young boy who looked much like Matthew, but had pale skin and red eyes, and whose hair was clearly not naturally black. The third was a picture of bedspread covered in blood and viscera. Matthew refused to look at that one.

"I take it you've seen these before?" Matthew slowly nodded, the shaking in his hands subsiding slightly. "This is gonna be tough kid, but I need you to tell me what happened."

Matthew took a deep breath.

"It all started three months ago. The school year had just started, and as usual I didn't really have anyone to talk to. Most of my buddies only come to LA during the summer and since they have their careers lined up they don't have enough free time to call. I know this doesn't sound important, but it's the main reason why I started talking to him; one of the guys I hadn't seen go to my school in the past few years I'd been there. His name was - is - Cruz Schild.

Cruz struck me as the intellectual type when I first saw him, and I was right. He aced every class, and would sometimes even get the teachers stumped with the questions he asked. He got pretty popular pretty quick thanks to that and him being albino - you know, people think that kinda special diversity is hot. He turned a lot of people down, though. Most everybody thought he was a snob, but I figured he just didn't have the time for friends.

Then one day, he comes up to me during lunch and asks to sit with me. I don't really have a reason to say no, so he takes a seat. We start having lunch together pretty much everyday after that, and it turns out he was actually a lot more complex than I thought he was. He had always strived to be the best at every subject, but he was disappointed that other people at his grade level didn't think as well as the people below it. As Cruz put it, 'they're so busy trying to be smart that they end up looking like idiots.'

I'm rambling, sorry. So Cruz and I became pretty good friends after that, and pretty soon we realized that we both live in pretty much the same area. So we started walking home together, going to each other's houses to watch shows and play games. It was the first time I can remember making such a great friend so fast … then, a couple days ago, Cruz and I were walking home, talking about Wakanda …

I was complaining about how everybody blamed the Avengers for what happened. 'There were people on the ground, too! It's not like everything would've been hunky-dory if they had done nothing at all!' I've always been a fan of you guys, so I got pretty heated talking about it. Eventually, I said something like 'I wish I could do the things they do!' … That's when Cruz told me that it actually was possible.

Cruz told me his secret, something he said he'd never told anyone but his parents before. He told me that he had an ability, something he was born with and couldn't really explain. He told me that he could give people powers. Now, I laughed in his face about it, right? I thought it was a bad joke. But then he looked at me with a cocky little smirk and said 'I can prove it to you, if you want …'

I mean, who wouldn't take him up on that? The guy was telling me he could make ME a superhero - I wasn't about to just pass that up! Even if I thought it was a joke … we went to an alley near his apartment complex and he started doing some crazy shit. He held my hand, traced out letters in some language I don't know, all the while chanting some kinda mumbo jumbo under his breath. Then he just stopped and I laughed, thinking he really was just joking. And then I saw another me, laughing right beside me.

That was … the best day of my life. I spent the whole day testing the limits of the powers Cruz gave me, and thanking him over and over again for this chance. Cruz told me he'd come by to talk to me more about this power the next day, and see what we could do about cleaning up Los Angeles … all I could think about was becoming a hero … I couldn't have known what was going to happen …

Nobody expects to wake up to find their own corpse lying in their bed …"

Tony listened to the kid's story without speaking. He loved his snark, but knew that this was most certainly not the time for it. Jesus Christ, what a mess … if he hadn't been in LA for a business meeting, he'd never have even known any of this was going on. This kid would have been left to rot, without any place to go. His parents probably think he's dead. And, as much as Tony hated to admit it, that was the way it should stay for the time being.

"Look, kid, I'm sorry I made you relive that. I'm sorry you got dragged into something you don't understand. I don't understand it, either. So how about we make a deal?" Matthew's head rose as his eyes, now filled with tears, met Stark's. "Why don't I bring you back to Stark Tower? You'll get comfortable living arrangements, and we can try to find out exactly what this thing is and if there's any way to fix it-"

"NO!" Matthew's voice cracked as he screamed the word, spit flying in Tony Stark's face. "HELL NO! I'm gonna find the asshole who did this to me and I'm going to BREAK HIS NECK!"

Tony leaned forward, folding his hands onto the table. "And then what? You're just gonna ~waltz back into mommy's house~ like nothing ever happened?" Matthew's jaw fell slowly from a grimace into slacked horror. "Killing this Cruz guy isn't gonna turn you back, and it's not gonna do your parents any favors. If you come back with me, I can help you control this thing. I can help you live a normal life."

Matthew's tears continued to stream down his face. "A normal life? I … will **never** have a normal life … again …" Tony leaned forward, his hand outstretched.

"You don't know tha-"

"I CAN HEAR ME!" Matthew screamed once more, his throat struggling to handle the strain of his bawling and yelling mixed together. "The whole time we've been talking … I've been hearing myself in my head … don't say anything, tell him everything, run away, go with him, survive and kill yourself - all AT THE SAME TIME!"

Matthew held his head in his hands, crying onto the table. The people inside the diner stared at him and Stark with mixed amazement and fear - several patrons had already left. Stark sighed and pressed a button on his watch, holding it up to his mouth. "Vis, come in. I'm gonna need someone to move him."

Not a second later, a man with red skin wearing a black tuxedo appeared straight out of the wall nearest the table. His eyes fell on Matthew with soft pity. He had, of course, heard the entire conversation … he could not imagine the torment the poor boy must be going through. Vision approached and patted him on the shoulder. "Come now, Matthew. Cry all you must, but we must be going. Stark Tower is the only place you'll be safe … and it's the only place that we can take you to make everyone here - your parents, the whole of Los Angeles - safe."

At this, Matthew straightened up. It was true, he could feel every 'him' trying their very best to leave - and he had no idea just how many of them he had. If it was too many, there was no way he could track them all. The city itself could be put at risk because of him. He stood out of his chair, shaking, only to take one step and fall to the ground.

Vision bent over and offered Matthew his arm. "Lean on my shoulder. Come on, that's it." Matthew stood up and, guided by two men of valor, was escorted out of the diner. Outside, he would find a chopper waiting to bring him to Stark Tower. As Matthew left, he knew that he would never return. For when the day finally came that he would see Los Angeles once more … he would no longer be the same person.


	2. The Discovery of Matthew Lace

It had been 17 hours since he had been brought to Stark Tower, and Matthew was still not quite used to the massive amount of incredible technology surrounding him. Nor was he used to the idea that he was currently over a thousand feet above the ground, but he tried not to think about that. Matthew hated heights, and could not fathom why anyone would ever spend so much money on what was bound to one day become the next 9/11.

Now, the things _inside_ that massive death tower were far more reasonable. The giant tube made of bulletproof glass that Matthew currently resided in was very interesting. It only had one entry and exit point, which lay beneath the floor that he was currently sitting on, which was just as dense as the glass. The ceiling was the only location that looked somewhat penetrable, as it had several small holes in it to allow air to flow freely to and from the tube itself.

The idea of being inside a glass tube as if he were the subject of a mad scientist's experiments really didn't bother him as much as the story he was on did. He knew he was a test subject, it was why he had come in the first place. And he also knew that Tony Stark was a god damned genius with a decent moral compass, so he wouldn't do anything stupid or morally questionable to Matthew.

So, feeling perfectly safe inside his own little tube, Matthew continued to examine the many doo-dads inside Stark's personal study. There were monitors mounted on just about every spot of wall and built into machines that littered the room for different purposes - some obvious, like the one that was there to monitor Matthew's vitals and brain activity (the wireless pads on his veins and temples were a constant reminder of it) and some not so obvious, like the weird thing in the corner that looked like a refrigerator had a monitor and a massive amount of buttons and dials thrown onto it. Lots of people dreamed of going to Stark Tower, so Matthew decided to make the most of his opportunity to burn every piece of it into his memory.

Of course, that wasn't the only reason he paid so much attention to every little detail. As he sat there, coming up with different speculations on what the dials and knobs did, the gears in Matthew's head refused to stop turning. He could hear himself, he expected he always would from this day forward, many different versions of himself coming up with more ideas and thoughts of which metal thing performed what function than he could have been able to come up with on his own. He didn't bother trying to decipher which one was 'his'. 'He' knew better by now.

The problem with having so many voices in his head was that he wasn't able to distract himself as well for as long as he usually could. Before the accident, 'Matthew Lace' would have been able to think of as many possible functions for a single piece of machinery in a minute as the Matthews thought of in ten seconds. After all, with a crowd of people just like him inside his own head, Matthew was able to examine every possibility that he'd have come to eventually in a much shorter time span, because each of them thought of a different one of the many ideas that the original would have eventually posed down the line on his own. It would be very hard for Matthew to try to explain this to Mr. Stark …

 _It's like burning 5 torches at once instead of keeping one lit until it burns out then sparking another_

 _It's like burning a torch at both ends_

 _It's like riding a bike instead of walking_

 _It's like there's a committee in your head_

Just as the other four of Matthews gave him their insight, Tony Stark walked into the room. He was dressed far more comfortably than he was in the diner, now wearing a red bed robe with fuzzy pink slippers on his feet … it was not a look Matthew had ever expected to see from him. Once again, Stark was accompanied by Vision, still wearing an assortment of black and white, although today it was a pair of sweatpants with a grey long-sleeved shirt. Matthew had been woken up to a similar outfit right beside where he lay in the tube, minus the long sleeves.

Following Vision was none other than Black Widow herself, wearing jeans and a red t-shirt. Matthew had often had fantasies of her that he'd never want to admit to anyone, but this image of her was a little harder to deal with after the accident. She was already attractive in her black latex jacket, seeing her in casual wear made the other four Matthews go crazy. Unlike him, they didn't have to worry about hiding their emotions. They were just in his head, after all.

"How've you been? You sleep well?" Asked Stark while pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Sorry we couldn't get any blankets or pillows in with you. You were already sleeping like a baby when we got here and I don't expect you to have to be in there longer than the day." Matthew nodded, having grown accustomed to the arrangements already.

"I've slept on the floor a bunch of times. Yours is actually more comfortable than most."

Widow was the one who posed the obvious question: "Why did you sleep on the floor?"

"Because there weren't enough beds." Matthew realized immediately that this was a little too simple, so he elaborated. "My summer buddies and I would have big blowout parties sometimes. I always volunteered to sleep on the floor so we wouldn't have to fight over who got the beds and couches."

"Classic high school life!" Stark walked over and sat in a comfortable armchair set up right in front of the tube. "I was a jumpy sleeper, myself. Always pushed the owner of the house out of their beds if I had to."

"You, jumpy?" Widow gave Stark a coy smile, to which the latter rose one eyebrow and shrugged. "Who'd have thought? So anyway, it's nice to meet you Matthew. I'm Natasha."

"I know. Nice to meet you. Big fan." Having Black Widow smile at him was **not** something Matthew could easily handle at this exact moment.

Stark took the reins from there. "So now I know how you slept, but how are you feelin' kid? Had time to think?" Matthew nodded.

"I've figured out a lot of things. Been up a couple hours with myself."

"With 'yourself?'" Stark leaned forward. "How do you mean?" Matthew shuffled a little in his cross-legged seat on the floor, the better to articulate himself properly.

"It's like … like there are 4 other voices in my head, and they're all me." Stark didn't seem quite satisfied with that, so Matthew continued. "Let me give you an example - that machine over there, the one that's like a cube with a bunch of dials and knobs? I don't know what it does, but I was able to come up with a ton more theories in a lot less time than I would have before, because while *I* was thinking through one possibility, one of the 'other' Matthews was thinking through another, and a third one was thinking through its' own idea, and so on. I would have thought of them all anyway, but it would have taken a lot more time and effort and I might have even gotten burned out doing it. But since I divided the work between myself, it was easier."

The Avengers all looked at each other with some degree of worry on their faces. Black Widow in particular seemed afraid, while Vision was the closest to confusion. Widow inched forward in her chair. "When do you hear these voices, Matthew?" Matthew's brow furrowed, not really sure that he understood.

"All the time …" As Widow leaned back and shot Stark an even more worried look, Matthew mentally kicked himself. "But it's not like they aren't real or anything! I mean, look-" Matthew stood up, closed his eyes, and four more bodies identical to him and wearing the same clothes all slid seamlessly out of his body. Widow jumped in her seat while Tony slowly lowered his mug to the end table beside his chair. Vision's confusion was quickly replaced with amazement.

"So that's how it happens … I was curious, but didn't know if you were comfortable doing it." Stark appeared fascinated by the five Matthews standing inside the tube. "So they don't shut up, inside or out?" Two of the Matthews chuckled, while the rest smirked. They all said in unison:

"Mr. Stark, I couldn't shut up if I wanted to." The two that chuckled finished with "which I don't." at which point the other three showed great disappointment in themselves for not doing the same.

"You're much more … comfortable with this than I thought you'd be." Vision finally spoke for the first time that day. The Matthews shrugged.

"I guess it's because now, I don't have to crowd every voice in the same head." Five uncanny replicas of the same voice echoed out from the glass tube, and Widow groaned as she held her head in protest.

"Please, could one of you talk unless the others have a problem with what that one says? It's a little too loud with all of you at once."

The Matthews all looked ashamed, said "yes ma'am." quickly clapped their hands to their mouths and turned around to quickly discuss who would speak. They resolved to have the 'first' Matthew be their spokesman. Stark continued.

"Well kid, that helps answer a lot of questions. That said, there are a few other tests I should run just to confirm some of my suspicions. But first things' first - you hungry?"

Matthew enjoyed a day of completely undivided attention from the Avengers - complemented by some exquisite cuisine provided by Stark Tower staff - as Tony Stark examined his physical attributes while Black Widow poked around his psychological ones. Strangely, Vision remained silent. Matthew began to wonder why he was here in the first place; Stark and Widow were experts in the body and mind, but Vision seemed to have nothing to hold his interest, no real reason to be there. He wasn't a scientist or a psychologist, he was just a … a guy, who happened to be made of metal.

Yet despite him seeming to have no logical reason to be, Vision very clearly was interested in everything that was going on. He watched intently as Matthew performed tests and answered questions, both as one body and as several. He showed relief at the parts of Matthew that were still normal, and seemed impressed by the qualities that had been enhanced. He even appeared sympathetic to the horrors Matthew had to endure.

"Well, that about covers it. We at least know you're not gonna trash the tower. I'll go down and get you out of that tube, but first, do you have any questions? Comments? Concerns?" Stark finished off whatever he was writing on his clipboard sometime around 4 pm, at least six hours after they had started.

"Actually, I'm confused about one thing: why are you here?" Matthew addressed Vision directly, taking everyone slightly by surprise. "You haven't said a word to me since breakfast. You haven't asked me to do anything, answer any questions. You've just been standing there and watching. I don't mean to be rude, I just … I figured you'd be saving a city or something." Matthew knew that what he was saying probably sounded offensive, and that made him hesitate ever so slightly. He was just as impressed by Vision as he was by Stark and Ms. Romanova, perhaps even a little more so. But he just didn't seem suited to learning the ins-and-outs of a teenager on a literal power trip.

"We were, uh … going to wait until later to tell you that." Stark looked from Vision to Matthew, then back to Vision. Ms. Romanova kept her eyes on Matthew, her smile still genuine as she spoke, but somehow not reaching her eyes.

"We thought that it would be best if you don't go outside Stark Tower for a little while. We don't know who might be after you, and there might be some other abilities you haven't discovered yet."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I get that. But why is he-"

"Well, we're not just gonna let you run around the tower all the time. You need somebody to watch you, to train you." Stark looked at Matthew with slight irritation in his voice. "After all, you're still just an 18 year-old kid, and you only just got this new set of heads. And there's only one guy in this whole world who's as one-of-a-kind as you are."

"That's enough, Stark." Vision walked over beside the tube, his gait somewhat stiff but his voice confident. He stopped in front of the tube and turned to look at Matthew. Matthew could see the sorrow in those eyes. The sympathy. He knew what it was like to be given life by someone you hate. There were other things Matthew felt that Vision did not know, would probably never know. But he knew that much, and it was enough to empathize with.

"I hope you can forgive me for not telling you sooner. Please understand that this is only a safety precaution." Matthew looked around at the Avengers, first Stark with his grumpy stare, then Ms. Romanova with her stoic gaze. Then finally his eyes landed once again on Vision.

"So, you're telling me that you'll be watching over me? Keeping me under guard?"

"... training me?"

Matthew felt his stomach do a backflip as the other four voices in his head cheered with glee.


	3. Learning to Deal with Matthew Lace

p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"It had already been a month since Matthew's admission to Stark Tower, and Vision was afraid that the poor boy was beginning to overstay his welcome. He had hoped that Matthew would take his training seriously, and was not disappointed for the first two weeks - Matthew had been very attentive and respectful, and had given every lesson his best. He passed general alertness tests with flying colors, and his physical build was surprisingly strong for a boy his age. Teaching Matthew quickly became one of Vision's favorite things to do./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"However, something seemed to change in him during the third week. He started to lose his focus, become distracted and even failed a few routine focal practices. Vision imagined it was because the tests were becoming mundane after two weeks - after all, it was quite similar to high school when Vision thought about it. All Matthew did was look at a screen and discern which dot was the main objective, or listen to background noise and pick out the voice of someone he knew./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Still, these tests had been picked out by Mr. Stark himself to heighten the boys' focus, as an attempt to help them all keep the chatter in their collective head to a minimum or find some balance that optimized its' efficiency. It seemed to be the fastest way to improve his control and lessen his threat to society. Matthew knew this, yet he still treated it like it didn't matter./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Matthew's significant lack of interest was not something Vision was experienced with, and once again he wondered why he was in charge of supervising the boys' training. He did not understand the boys' powers any more than Stark did. Vision knew he couldn't change Stark's mind, but he decided it wouldn't hurt to try once more. At the very least, he might better understand why he should be the one to teach Matthew./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Vision stepped into Stark's office, taking care to use the door. "Mr. Stark?" He called, trying to make his presence as well known as he could. These painstaking efforts reminded him of Wanda, and how he had not been able to see her as often since he began tutoring Matthew. Yet another reason he was here. "Mr. Stark? Are you here?"/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Mr. Stark's hand waved from a nearby corner, and Vision noticed the telltale sounds of moving gears that suggested Mr. Stark was working on a new invention. "Over here Red. Perfect time - I was just looking for my welding torch." Mr. Stark seemed to enjoy his witty remarks, though Vision never did quite understand the joy that came of poking fun at someone else. He approached Mr. Stark slowly, taking scope of exactly what the latter was building./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Ah. Working on prosthetics again?" Mr. Stark had his hands on what appeared to be a newer model of the prosthetic arms he had displayed at his latest conference./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Yeah, well, we always seem to be in the line of fire. We're gonna need some damn good band-aids." Vision nodded, examining the machinery with his eyes. He wondered if he looked anything like the red arm on the table when he was being built …/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""You need something, or did you just come to admire my work? Not that I'd blame you, but I never pegged you for much of a mechanical man." Vision's eyes narrowed at the jab, which actually stung a little./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""I've come to talk about the boy." Mr. Stark moved over to the wall and pressed a switch, and the arm's fingers moved in unison./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Which one? The one I talked to or one of the ones inside him?"/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""They're all the same child, Mr. Stark."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Yeah, well, you show me a neural scan and I'll believe you on that one."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Mr. Stark returned to the arm and began inputting codes through a keypad next to it. Vision floated into the keys, putting him directly in front of Stark's face and on top of his hands. "He is neglecting the exercises. He is not doing the work. He's bored, Mr. Stark." Vision left the keys only after Mr. Stark backed away from them./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""... Well what do you want me to do, give him a lollipop and ask nicely? You're his trainer. If he needs motivation, give him some."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Why am I his trainer, Mr. Stark? Surely someone else is better suit-"/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Like Nat? She has enough trouble with all our testosterone, she can't handle five teenagers in one. Besides, she'd be a major distraction for the kid - you can tell he's got a massive hard-on for her, can't you?" Mr. Stark looked at Vision like he was a complete idiot./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""I don't have time to babysit, and Wanda has nowhere near the experience needed!"/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"The last reason threw Vision for a loop. "... I am barely even two years old."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Congratulations, Vis." Stark glared at Vision still, now legitimately angry. "That kid was born a month ago."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Matthew sat in the same pale room with the same dull logic puzzle in front of him. Dots on a screen swirling around to a rhythm he had to decipher. As if any of it mattered - this was nothing like what the real world would be like for him from here on out. Matthew vaguely wondered if there were any others like him here - freaks Stark had to take in because they were too dangerous for the world to handle./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"There's Scarlet, Vision's girlfriend. She's still kept locked up pretty tight./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"If Quicksilver had survived, he'd be here for sure. God, he seemed like a cool guy …/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Surely we can't be the only ones, right?/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Cruz is still out there./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"… That's right. The guy who made us is still running around./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Vision entered the study room to find Matthew reclining in his chair, completely ignoring the task in front of him. Matthew didn't even turn to look at him. Something about the ceiling seemed really interesting to him right at that moment. Vision waited a minute to see if Matthew would speak. When he didn't, Vision called out to him./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Matthew. We need to talk." finally, Matthew thought, some intervention. He turned his chair and looked Vision in the eyes. That brilliant blue never ceased to amaze him. "You have been neglecting your duties. You're supposed to be increasing your focus and alertness." Matthew scoffed. Nevermind. Just a dumb lecture./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""You have to start taking this seriously, or you're never going to be allowed to leave. Don't you want to see your friends and family again?" Matthew's face contorted into an expression he had never worn in front of Vision. It took a second for the latter to place Matthew's disposition - he was disgusted. Something about what Vision had just said made him feel revolted./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""'Friends'? 'Family?' They all think I'm dead! And it's better that way, I mean, what kind of parent would want me? Who'd want to hang out with five of the same guy!? This isn't about going back to a normal life - I know what I am. A normal life just isn't an option for me at this point …" Vision saw the hurt in Matthew's eyes, the sorrow for what he'd lost. The knowledge of what he had become./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""You're telling me to take this seriously?" Matthew turned back around to the test on his touch-screen computer and, one press at a time finished every puzzle on the list in thirty seconds. Then he looked back at Vision with defiance in his eyes. "I've been taking you seriously this whole time. And I would love it if you'd return the favor."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"It was at that point that Vision understood something more than just why he was chosen to teach Matthew. He was the only one who could teach Matthew. He was the only person in the world who had reached such a level of unique life as Matthew had. There was nobody quite like Vision in the world. And there was nobody quite like the boy in front of him./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Not boy. Man. That was another thing Vision realized. He had been treating Matthew like a child, but no one who had gone through what he had came out of it a child. Matthew knew what he was, better than anyone. He understood that things would never be the same. It was time Vision accepted that, too./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Well, alright then. What do you want to do?" Vision moved over and put his hand on Matthew's shoulder. Matthew's gaze was steady and determined./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""We want to go out. We want to help. Cruz is still out there, and people are going to get hurt as long as he is. We need to find him, and take him down."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Vision nodded. "Very well. Let's show Mr. Stark what you've learned."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Three hours later, Tony Stark was standing in front of a control panel tapping away at some buttons and switches. Nobody else understood what he was doing, and although a small part of him took pride in that, at the moment it irritated him. As a kid, he'd always dreamed of doing stuff like this, building and running all these machines only he knew completely. Now, it was more than a little tiresome being the only guy in the building who knew how to make a stupid metal arm move./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"There was a window in front of the control panel connecting it to a large, white room. In this room stood Matthew Lace, dressed in flexible black sweatpants and a black t-shirt, to make him stand out against the background. The kid had that serious look on his face from back when they'd first met. Stark didn't expect him to keep it./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Alright kid, we're gonna start with something pretty simple." Tiny holes appeared in the four walls surrounding the room, all of them about the size of a standard thumb. "Rubber bullets are going to shoot out of those holes. Now, they won't kill you, but they will leave one hell of a sting, so here's a word of advice." Stark put his mouth closer to the microphone he was speaking into, letting his statement hang in the air for one second before finishing "Don't get shot."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Stark cut the audio and pressed his last switch. He of course knew exactly where the bullets would come from first, and didn't expect the kid to dodge more than three of them. Maybe this would teach him not to rush things. So he could pick out a bunch of dots, whoop-de-fuckin-doo, it didn't mean he was ready for the next step. A couple bruises would set him straight./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Stark glowered at Vision. "When I said 'give him motivation', telling him to get the shit kicked out of him wasn't quite what I meant." Vision stared impassively at Stark for only a moment before returning his gaze to Matthew./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""The boy said that he was ready. I chose to believe him. We'll see if that choice is right." Stark, for once, didn't know how to respond to that. He turned back to the monitor and took one last look at the kid./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Matthew was standing in the center of the room, his eyes closed, his hands in his pockets. Must be focusing on his hearing to locate the bullets. That, or he's taking a nap. Let's find out. Stark flipped a couple switches and popped open his fancy button protector. Ready to see a kid get pelted all over, he pressed the big shiny button./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Immediately, the bullets started flying. Well, bullet, to be precise. It was the lowest setting, so only one bullet flew at a time but the exact order was not something the boy would be able to know. Still, the first one blew right past his head as Matthew stepped to the right. Exactly seven seconds later, he took a step back to avoid another bullet. Five seconds after that, he stepped forward, dodging another one./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Stark was actually surprised. The kid was good at listening at least. Let's crank it to level three. Stark flipped a few more switches and watched as bullets began to fly simultaneously, in shorter intervals than previously. Matthew still managed to dodge every single shot like it was nothing, not even taking his hands out of his pockets. Vision smiled as he watched the boy. "Hmm … I would say his 'shit' is definitely still within him, Mr. Stark."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Stark rolled his eyes. "Glad you're feeling cocky, Big Red, but he'll be black and blue soon enough." Stark flipped a few more switches, intending to prove his point beyond any doubt. Let's bring it up to 7, that ought to get through to the kid. Again, more bullets shot out much, much faster than before an in greater numbers. Such a drastic change of pace was sure to get the kid to panic./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"And it did. Matthew felt each bullet whizzing past his face by mere inches. It was all he could do to keep track of them all. He was really glad that he didn't have to do it all alone, at least - there's no way he'd be able to do this without the other Matthews helping him out. Left. Right. Duck. Back. Right. Each of them was tracking his four cardinal directions. All he had to do was move to accommodate./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Stark didn't even know what to think about this. Nobody passed this level without some kind of extreme training, yet this kid with severe D.I.D. was breezing through it. Sure, he was struggling, but he was keeping up. Vision looked at Stark, his brow furrowed slightly. "I believe this ought to be enough to prove he's ready?"/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Stark, however, held up a hand. He thought he saw something for a second in the boy's step … a tiny shift in his appearance. "... Let's try just one level higher. Y'know, just … to see what happens." Vision turned to face him, a reproachful look on his face. "Aw c'mon, Vis, you know us humans; we always reach our peak when we're challenged."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Stark flipped another switch and watched. Matthew's brow was drenched in sweat now. The bullets came at him almost too fast to avoid - no, faster than any normal human should be able to avoid. Matthew felt one graze his skin and it burned, like skidding along asphalt except hotter. He cried out as he felt something fall from his back, then …/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Pain. Every part of his body was covered in pain. It wasn't like anything he had ever experienced - the closest thing was when he fell off his board one summer and landed belly first on the wave, but even that was nothing compared to this. He didn't know what kind of hell he'd just been transported to, and he was afraid to find out. But he had to know what was going on. Matthew opened his eyes …/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"He saw his bedroom. Various posters depicting his favorite heroes and Alternative Rock bands peppered the walls. Trophies won in soccer and surfing competitions covered his dresser across the room. His desk sat with a desktop monitor atop it next to his bed, which itself was stylized with the colors and shield of Captain America./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Everything was just as he'd left it. The comic books he collected over the years were stacked beside his monitor, the latter having accumulated a heavy amount of dust like the trophies themselves. Many pieces of paper littered the floor, some detailed sketches of what he'd want his costume to be and some crappy poems for when a cute girl turned out to have a boyfriend. More posters covered the wall to the left of his bed, some of old cartoons and some of other albums. His favorite, the one depicting the Avengers in grand, glorious salute, was right next to his head./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Something in the corner of that poster caught Matthew's eye. There was a bit of red where there shouldn't be … and it only took him a few seconds to recognize it as blood. Matthew looked down and saw more of it all across his blankets and sheets. His clothes were layered thick with it. Shaking, Matthew brought his hands to his face - they too were red. He slowly shifted in the seat on his bed to turn around and look at what he already knew would be there …/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Hey! Hey kid, wake up!"/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Suddenly, the world was bright once more. The red was gone, and only white could be seen directly in front of Matthew's face. Matthew planted his palms and lifted himself off the floor, looking around. Tony Stark and Vision were standing above him, the former giving him a strange, guilt-ridden expression and the latter giving a less disconcerting one of concern./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Ah man … I failed, didn't I?" Matthew sat up, cross-legged and with his eyes glued to the soles of his feet. He knew he'd bite it in the end, he just knew it. Every time he talked a big game …/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Oh hell no, you passed with flying colors." Stark was happy to see the kid's shocked expression as the news hit him. "You got past level 7, which is more than even a couple ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents could handle. I'd say your focus is right on the money."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"Matthew grinned and leapt to his feet. "Wait, seriously? I passed!? Hell yeah!" Matthew did a little jig of glee - an actual jig, not the dumb Americanized dance moves you see at a club - and heard another pair of feet tapping along with him. He turned his head to spot another him standing just a couple feet away. Both of them looked at the other quizzically, not recalling ever separating./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Matt 2 here popped out after I pushed the level to 8. Well, not so much 'popped' as 'fell'. You both just kinda passed out once bullet hell started comin' out of the walls." Stark kept his expression reserved as he spoke this time, waiting to see the Matthews' reactions to this information. "Seems like overexertion causes some form of extreme energy loss - just because you're five people doesn't mean you have the energy to match."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"The Matthews both felt a small lurch in their stomachs. They'd been so active the past month that they didn't even notice. In fact, having this many people in one head often felt as if they had boundless amounts of energy, able to spend days, sometimes even a week or more without rest or sleep. Whenever one Matthew got tired, another would handle the day's routine. It helped with their focus training as well, because all they had to listen to while awake was the sound of snoring./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"But now that Stark had mentioned it, there were times when they were all awake at once that they gained extreme productivity only to feel increased fatigue moments later. The Matthews had simply chalked it up to emotional exhaustion given everything that had happened, but with the cause being proven physical it could easily become a problem if they ever engaged in combat. They couldn't just 'fall' out of each other in the middle of a fight with … anything, really. It just wasn't smart./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;""Well, now we know what your next bout of training will be: physical fitness." Vision smiled brightly at the Matthews, who both smiled back. It was a mischievous sort of smile that they all shared, something about being able to test each other's mettle. Though, admittedly, the Matthews seemed far less confident than Vision did./p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"This showed in growling stomachs as the two Matthews present promptly fell to the floor clutching each of their own. Stark laughed. "Oh yeah. Exhaustion means lack of energy, which means lack of food. Let's get to the kitchen and grab some burritos. We can talk about fitness after you two stop making noise."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 115%;"The Matthews merged back into one body, then stood up slowly with their hands still clutched to their torso. Vision sighed and calmly assisted as he helped the hungry boys begin their slow march to the elevator./p 


	4. Getting to Know Matthew Lace

Matthew's bruised and beaten face once again made contact with the immovable concrete floor. He had quickly grown to expect massive amounts of pain when sparring with his teacher, as Vision just didn't seem to know what the concept of "holding back" meant. Now Matthew was not knew to self defense - his father had convinced him to take tae kwon do and some karate while he was in middle school, which helped keep the real bullies off his back. Fending off some schoolyard punks proved to be an entirely different ball park from keeping up with this metallic monstrosity, however.

"Are you alright? I hit you too hard again, I knew it." Vision rushed to his pupil's side, quite sure that some part of the latter's jaw would be chipped. Upon kneeling down to examine Matthew's injuries, Vision felt something soft hit his right shin. Matthew's own leg had shot backwards in an attempt to one-up Vision while he was checking on him. The result was less than satisfactory.

Vision smirked. "I take it this means you're ready to continue? Then I will oblige." He grabbed Matthew's leg and lifted the boy by it, standing up and nonchalantly flinging him into a wall. Vision did not look back to see the result, but he did hear the resulting impact followed by a sharp cry of pain.

"Oww … uncle, uncle …" Matthew slowly began rising to his feet, taking all the time he needed to collect himself. He was covered head-to-foot in protective padding, but in truth it did little to soften Vision's blows. It really wasn't fair, Matthew thought. Fighting Vision was like beating up a wall, except the wall had fists too, and never pulled any punches. Granted, it wasn't often that they got to spar like this … most of Matthew's current training regimen involved running on a treadmill and doing other aerobic activities. His biggest issue right now was his stamina, not his combat prowess.

There had been strides on fixing that problem over the last two months, but it was a slow process. The Matthews all needed to exercise at the same time to minimize the temptation to switch out and make the activity easier. They were going to be able to do much more as five in a real fight than they could do as one, so they had to get used to the idea that they could only rely on themselves for energy conservation.

Of course, that didn't apply in this sparring match, where the 'use' of powers weren't allowed. Vision encouraged the Matthews to swap out and fight him one-on-one, which they had all done by this point. None of them had even managed to lay a scratch on the man, and they all had a pretty good idea why.

"Even when you don't phase or fly, you still have a major advantage!" Matthew complained, nursing his many bruises as the other four roared their approval of his words. Wait, Vision couldn't hear them right now … whatever, it still made Matthew feel good about what he was saying. "You're literally made of stronger stuff than we are - every punch we throw hurts us and each one you throw hurts way more! If we're gonna do these 'sparring' matches, it's gotta be on equal footing."

Vision looked mildly surprised at Matthew's outburst. Of course, he knew that he was a tad more … durable than most Humans, but he had thought that not giving himself a handicap would play to Matthew's desire for a challenge. Vision was still trying to figure out exactly who Matthew Lace truly was … perhaps this would be a good opportunity to learn.

"You make a fine point, Matthew. We should find something to work as a handicap for our fights, at least for now. With the focus training more or less complete, I think now is a fine time for our first outing." Vision grinned slyly at Matthew while the latter froze up. Matthew's brow was already soaked with sweat from the fight, but Vision could tell that his perspiration would continue for some time after this conversation.

"'Outing?' As in, we're leaving Stark Tower? Going out into New York, where there are normal people, just you and me?"

Vision nodded. "Naturally. Of course, we could probably just get something manufactured for you here in Stark Tower, but that could take days, perhaps even weeks. I quite enjoy our fights, and would like them to be a tad more challenging as quickly as possible. It isn't like we need a special gadget just so you can fight little old me on equal footing, either."

Matthew couldn't comprehend what he was hearing. He had only been at Stark Tower for three months now and he was already being allowed to leave? Well, obviously he'd be under Vision's guard, which meant he was fairly secure, but didn't Vision realize how clearly volatile he still was? The five of them may not be fighting to separate anymore, but their mental state wasn't exactly one-hundred percent stable. Being in a crowded locale like New York city was the last thing Matthew needed right now …

"Can't we just … can't we just stay in the tower? I don't mind waiting …" Matthew's trepidation and near palpable fear at the prospect of going outside was written all over his face. Vision decided to drop the snark for the moment.

"Matthew … not too long ago you asked me to take you seriously." Vision stood in front of Matthew and put a hand on his shoulder. "I asked Mr. Stark to set you that test and you passed with flying colors. Now, I offer to test you again - to see if you're ready to leave the tower - and you say you're not ready?" Vision put his other hand on Matthew and looked him in the eyes. "Now I wonder if you're taking yourselves seriously."

 _Maybe he's got a point … maybe we are ready for this …_

 _Are you kidding, man? We've only been here three months!_

 _We passed Stark's focus training in the first month. And wasn't that the one that had the most to do with personal interaction?_

 _Guys, if we're doing this, we need to make sure we're ready. Are we ready?_

 _What do you think, Class Rep?_

 _What do you think, Class Rep?_

 _What do you think, Class Rep?_

 _What do you think, Class Rep?_

The Matthews had made the decision during their first month together to refer to the one currently moving their 'main' body as the Class Rep. This wasn't by any means a constant role - the Class Rep changed daily so they could divide the responsibility as evenly as possible. The idea had sprung up from one of the books on clone theory Mr. Stark had in the Stark Tower library.

The book said that from the moment a clone was created, neither the supposed 'clone' or supposed 'original' were still the same person - the very experience of cloning and being cloned made them different people. This was lessened in the Matthews' case since they were a very unique form of cloning, but it was only a matter of time before the Matthews weren't all quite 'Matthew' anymore. For all they knew, it could have already happened.

So to minimize the threat of any of them feeling outed or like they didn't quite mesh with the others, the Class Rep system was created. The Class Rep of the day would lead all daily activities, be the deciding factor when the other four heads reached a tie, and would relay all information from the other Matthews to Vision or Stark or whoever they were talking to at the time. This was the moment where the Class Rep had to take a stand. Matthew breathed deeply, weighing his options.

As he stood there in the Stark tower training room, Matthew Lace felt very much like he was somewhere else. He felt the gentle rise and fall of ocean waves beneath his surfboard, smelled the salt on the air as he listened to his friends' laughter around him. As Matthew lay flat on his board, he faintly heard something else - the unmistakable sound of a wave rolling in. Matthew turned his board around to look.

Approaching very fast was the most terrifying wave Matthew had ever seen - in truth, the currents around LA could get much worse than what he saw that day, but a 15-year old boy had trouble comprehending anything bigger than the mass of water in front of him. He knew there was plenty of time to get out of the way, and he heard his friends telling him it was alright, none of them would blame him if he didn't go for it.

That wave had been the most amazing ride Matthew ever had. He'd ridden bigger ones since, but none quite like that one. When he got back to the shore, all his friends had asked why he did it. The only answer he could think of was: 'because it was there.'

 _Because it was there …_ Here was an opportunity to test himself. Vision was right - Matthew didn't really take himself seriously. Now that he had four others just like him, he couldn't help but feel like he wasn't quite as 'special' as he was before. This was a chance to try to be special again … by being like a normal person. Matthew exhaled sharply and nodded.

"Let's go."

The crowded streets of New York city were on a completely different level than Los Angeles. Car traffic was so terrible that you could often get where you had to go on foot faster than any car would take you, so that's exactly how Vision chose to take Matthew to their destination. The obvious problem with walking was that there would be people around Matthew at all times, in very close proximity, where he was least comfortable with them. But strangely, this helped Matthew ease into his situation.

 _This place is so crowded, it's impossible for any of us to squeeze out of the Class Rep's body._

 _Not that we would, but yeah, it is pretty comforting._

 _Anybody else think it's weird that we all distrust each other?_

 _No._

 _No._

 _No._

 _Yeah, me neither._

Matthew smirked and continued to follow Vision.

 _The boy seems to be handling this well._ Vision wasn't altogether surprised by Matthew's tenacity in adapting to his new situation, but he was certainly comforted by it. Of course, Mr. Stark had no idea that the boy wasn't in the tower right now, but he was off in Queens dealing with the Parker boy anyway. By the time they got back, Stark would be none the wiser.

Keeping track of Matthew was proving to be more difficult than keeping him calm. Vision stood head and shoulders taller than just about everyone in the city, but Matthew was at least an inch below average height, so it was easy for Vision to lose him in the crowd. He would make a fine stealth unit someday - more like a stealth squad, come to think of it. Vision made a mental note to convince Ms. Romanova to give him some lessons.

It didn't take long (well it took the better part of an hour, but it would have taken longer by car and Matthew didn't complain) for the two of them to arrive at their destination - a rather rustic little shop in downtown Manhattan that sold an array of different products, some of which assisted in self defense. Tasers and pepper spray were the most common items on display, but there were a few other metallic … utensils listed on paper. These were, for obvious reasons, kept in the back.

"I didn't expect to find a place like this in Manhattan …" Matthew remarked as he browsed the wares listed in the catalogue. Manhattan had always struck him as the 'good part' of town - he expected establishments with weapons catalogues to be in places like the Bronx or Brooklyn. Vision shook his head.

"You can't expect anywhere to be devoid of danger. Manhattan has just as much crime as any other part of New York, and just as much reason to carry defense. Anything catch your eye yet?" This wasn't just a trip to get Matthew something to even the playing field, it was also a chance to learn how the boy thought. If he picked out a conventional weapon, like a knife, it would say a lot about the kind of fighting he'd like to learn.

Matthew didn't spend that much time looking through the catalogue before he pointed to a picture of two iron knuckle braces. "These should do fine. I don't need much - just something to make my hits matter. You guys don't spray paint these, do you?" Matthew posed this question to the clerk behind the counter, a well-toned man who could only have seemed more stereotypically Mexican if he were wearing a sombrero and smoking a burrito. The other four Matthews had a good laugh at him while the Class Rep tried his best to keep his smile pleasant.

"Personal decor on a self-defense weapon? This isn't something to make you look cool, kid." The man behind the counter leaned in and stared Matthew down. He pointed to the knuckle braces. "These - these are dangerous. My joint isn't a place for you to flex your daddy's wallet, it's for people to find something to let them feel safe. You want me to decorate your safeguard? You're not ready to buy from here."

The clerk had obviously seen too many spoiled rich kids coming from uptown looking for something to make them feel tough. This boy didn't look like a rich kid to him, but there was nothing about the boy that said he wasn't spoiled either. He couldn't see Vision's face since the latter went to great lengths to hide it in public, but that was just another red flag in the clerk's mind. Some guy who doesn't want to show his face walks in with a kid he's never seen before? The clerk was just waiting for one more excuse to call the hotline number.

Matthew took what was just said to him into consideration. He nodded. "You're right, I'm sorry. We'll take them as-is, thanks. Vis?" Vision walked over to the counter and pulled out his wallet.

"Sir, I'm gonna need to see your I.D. if you're planning to purchase those braces. The kid's too - I'm not allowed to sell to anyone under the age of 18." The clerk squinted at the towering man's face - even though he couldn't see it, he was sure there was some scumbag under there trying to pull something shady. The clerk had his hand under the counter, ready to pull out his handgun the moment he was threatened.

Vision sighed, opened up his wallet and pulled out his I.D. "I don't have a state identification card, but I was told this would suffice." Vision's voice was muffled by the breathing mask he wore to conceal his features, but he was quite sure the clerk could hear him. Vision set down the Stark Employee I.D. he had received to help him get around the tower, which had an authentic picture of his face on it. As the clerk bent over to see the card more clearly, Vision went about the business of removing his wide-rim hat and breathing mask to let the man see his face more clearly. When he was finished, the clerk backstepped so quickly his back slammed into the second counter behind him.

"You- you're …" The clerk looked at Vision, then back at Matthew, then back at Vision again. Vision sighed and nodded.

"How much for the braces?"

After spending ten whole minutes trying to convince Matthew it was a good idea, Vision had finally managed to persuade the former to have lunch outside the tower today. It was his first officially outing after all, and Vision felt that it was necessary for them to celebrate the occasion. Well, that was the excuse he'd come up with anyway - in truth, he thought it best to test Matthew's social skills in a crowded setting where everyone was staying put rather than trying to push their way through the crowd.

The mass of bodies was definitely getting to Matthew, who was fiddling with one of the knuckle braces to avoid having to look at people. Being in Stark Tower where everyone knew what he was had a certain security to it. Nobody expected him to behave normally because they knew that he _wasn't_ normal. Here, in a run-of-the-mill diner where everybody was just an average joe - it brought back memories of the night Mr. Stark had found him. He didn't like remembering that night.

 _The only reason we went to a diner was because we had nowhere else to go._

 _These people have no idea what's out there. They'll never understand what we are now._

 _They're just eating, guys, c'mon. Nobody's paying attention to us._

 _That's the problem - they're just eating like they don't have a care in the world. We can't do that._

Yes, that was the root of it. It wasn't that being in public made the Matthews anxious, it just reminded them of everything they had lost. Families here were eating lunch together, planning out their next stop on their tourist trip, talking about work and school and their love lives. There were probably couples here, too, discussing their plans for the future or just talking about menial things no one really cares about like T.V. shows or videogames or …

Comics. Matthew wondered if any of his old friends from middle school still hung out in diners like this one, talking about the latest issue of 'Insert Superhero X'. Conversations about if Captain America could beat Iron Man in a fight or about which Avenger Black Widow had a thing for popped into the Matthews' collective head one after another … conversations they would never have again.

"Matthew? Are you alright?" Matthew woke up from his daydream to find that he was being waited on. Vision was staring intently at him while the waitress at their table smiled uncomfortably. She clearly didn't like being at the table with the big man in the black trench coat.

"Oh crap, sorry! I'll have uh …" Matthew picked up the menu and glanced quickly, trying to find something even remotely appetizing. "I'll have the All-Natural Burger, thanks." The waitress took Matthew's menu and sauntered off towards the kitchen. Vision leaned across the table to look more closely at Matthew.

"Seriously, are you alright? You look deathly pale." Vision's worried gaze seemed to scan Matthew's mind, giving the impression that his mind was working through every possible source of the boys' distress. He pretended that he didn't know what the cause was. He wanted Matthew to say it.

"I just … all these people, talking about clothes and games and bills and just being so … _normal._ It … it brings back painful memories, that's all." Matthew knew it was ridiculous to feel this way. Just because something horrible happened to him didn't mean the world would stop turning. Still, having the world he'd been ripped away from and the life he once had displayed to this level of intensity, with this much variety … how was he supposed to stay calm?

Vision nodded his understanding. He leaned back in his seat a little and put one of his elbows on the table. "I can't pretend to know how you're feeling, but I think I've got an idea. There are times that I wonder how humans can stay so complacent, even when it seems the world is about to end. Even as we're trying to keep threats like Ultron and various Asgardians from tearing the Earth apart, they continue jibbering on about their fantasy football scores."

Matthew chuckled coldly, which only served to brighten Vision's respectful grin. Any level of joviality out of him at a time like this was a major breakthrough. Matthew glanced around the diner one more time before returning his gaze to Vision. "How … how do you …"

"How do I deal with it?" Matthew nodded as Vision took the words from him. "Honestly, I've come to rely on it." When Matthew gave him a quizzical frown, Vision went on. "The freedom to do whatever strikes their fancy - that frivolity, that blissful ignorance. That ability to have a boring conversation that has nothing to do with overcoming mental barriers or saving the world from destruction … that's exactly what I fight to protect. What all of the Avengers fight to protect."

Vision looked out the window. Matthew followed his eyes to see two boys fighting with toy lightsabers while their parents held each other and watched. Every one of them had a smile on their face. Something about that scene didn't make Matthew remember what he'd lost. He only felt happy for the family that was still there.

"A life spent worrying about the small things … it's one none of us can have. But we forsake it happily, so that others can lead that life in our stead."

It wasn't quite the same, but Matthew felt a little better now. It was true that he'd never be a normal kid again, and there was nothing he could do about that. What he could do was make sure nobody else had to go through what he did. He wasn't going to let anyone else die by Cruz's hands. 'Matthew Lace' may not have been able to save that poor, misguided boy wanting to play hero … but he was for damn sure going to avenge him.


End file.
